


Angst Bingo:  Trapped

by Shakespeares_Girl



Series: Claustrophobia [1]
Category: Glam Rock RPF
Genre: Angst, Claustrophobia, M/M, Panic Attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-23
Updated: 2012-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-30 00:23:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shakespeares_Girl/pseuds/Shakespeares_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy is claustrophobic and Adam can do nothing to help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angst Bingo:  Trapped

“Yeah, dude, I'll be there in like, two minutes,” Tommy laughs.

Adam smiles and presses the phone between his ear and his shoulder. “You in the elevator?”

“Yeah, don't hang up.”

“I won't baby, I know how you hate elevators.” Adam reaches for the take out box and picks through the contents, snapping up the juiciest pieces of chicken and chewing.

“Are you eating all the General Tso?” Tommy demands.

Adam opens his mouth to deny, but there's a screech on the other end, and Tommy's voice does two octaves higher than it normally is. “Oh, holy fuck—shit!”

“Baby?” Adam calls. “What's wrong? What's going on?”

“Adam? Shit, it's the elevator—damn. Damn. Fuck. Okay. Um. Can—can you call someone? On the house phone? I think it's stuck. Shit.” Tommy's voice barely wavers, but Adam wants more than anything to get in that elevator with him so he can hug and pet and calm his boy.

“Yeah, baby, I'll do it right now, okay? Hang on.” Adam gets up from the table by the window and slides across the bed to get the phone on the nightstand. He dials the desk and juggles the two phones between his shoulder and his ear and his hands. “You still okay, Tommy?”

“Yeah, I—I'm okay.”

“Just hang on, baby. Hello, operator?”

“This is the front desk,” the voice says.

“Yeah, I need to report a broken elevator? My boyfriend's stuck on it. You need to send someone,” Adam explains.

“Do you know which elevator?”

“Tommy? Which elevator did you take, baby?” Adam asks.

“Middle one,” Tommy answers. He sounds short of breath.

“He's on the middle one,” Adam relays the information. “Hurry, please? He doesn't like small spaces.”

“I'll send someone up as soon as I can, but I'm not sure how long it will take,” she tells him. “We don't have a repair man on call this week. I'll call up as soon as one gets here, all right?” Adam hangs up.

“Adam? I'm not doing so good,” Tommy says softly into his ear.

“What can I do, Tommy?” Adam asks.

“Keep talking? Oh god, I—I can't breathe,” Tommy gasps.

“Tommy? Tommy, sweetheart, breathe with me, okay? Inhale,” Adam sucks in a breath, deliberately noisy, “exhale” he blows out. “Come on, Tommy. Breathe for me.”

He hears Tommy take a noisy breath, then nothing.

“Tommy? Tommy!”

There's the sound of the phone being dropped, and Tommy gasping. “Oh god oh god oh god—I can't, Adam I can't—I can't breathe, I can't—oh god . . .”

Adam tightens his grip on the phone and squeezes his eyes shut. There's nothing he can do but listen.


End file.
